Chapter Nineteen #2
“My brothers have a scheme and I have come to tell you of it,” he said. “But you shall never know what it is if you bring my brothers here and the lady you have escorted will be in grave danger. Do you understand me?”
The blond knight with the golden beard stepped forward. “What scheme?” he asked. “What is going on? And if you are Tatius de Shera, why are your brothers here without you?”
Tatius opened his mouth to reply but the entry door opened again and the white-haired knight returned with someone in his grasp.
When Tatius recognized a de Shera soldier, he started to bolt, but the blond knight grabbed him and refused to let him go.
Tatius struggled as the white-haired knight dragged the soldier across the common room until they were near Tatius and the blond knight.
The white-haired knight grabbed the soldier by the skull and forced his head in Tatius’ direction.
“Tell me who this is,” the white-haired knight said in a heavy Irish brogue.
The soldier, who had a big bruise on his cheek that was swelling right before their eyes, looked fearfully at Tatius. Timidly, he pointed.
“Him, my lord?”
The white-haired knight nodded. “Him. Who is he?”
The soldier blinked as if confused by the question. “He… why, that is Lord Ellesmere, my lord.”
Now, it made sense why the white-haired knight had rushed out when he did – he’d gone to find someone to identify the stranger without seeking out Atilius or Fabius. The brown-haired knight hissed.
“Where did you get him?” he asked the white-haired knight.
The man jerked his head in the direction of the street. “The de Shera army is trickling down to the other side of town,” he said. “I grabbed this straggler.”
“No one saw you?”
“No one.”
With the stealth of the white-haired knight’s movements established, all eyes turned to Tatius, still in the grasp of the blond knight, who immediately released him.
“My apologies, my lord,” the blond knight said. “I am Kress de Rhydian. The clever Irishman is Bric MacRohan, and the third knight is Alexander de Sherrington. He is our escort commander.”
Tatius didn’t say anything for the moment. He was still looking at the de Shera soldier, who was in Bric’s grip, appearing absolutely terrified.
“You cannot let him return to the army,” he told the knights. “He will tell my brothers that he has seen me.”
Before anyone could respond, Bric planted his fist in the soldier’s jaw, knocking the man unconscious in one swift blow. As he crumpled at their feet, out cold, Kress shook his head at the brutality of that move. It was very nearly comical, but it served its purpose.
“Apparently, that will not be a problem, at least not right now,” he said ironically.
“Do not worry about that soldier, my lord. We would not betray your presence or allow it to be betrayed. You said that your brothers have a scheme and that your life is in danger? We are listening, my lord. Please tell us.”
Tatius was so relieved that they finally believed he was who he said he was that he sank down into the nearest chair as Alexander motioned for Bric to go and bolt the entry door.
He also told Bric to summon Achilles, who was up with the women in Cadelyn’s rented chamber.
All of these things came together swiftly, including Achilles quickly joining them, before Tatius said another word.
Now that the moment was upon him, he was so weary and nervous that he hardly knew where to start.
“There are only four knights?” he asked Kress.
Kress nodded. “Four knights and about fifty soldiers across the street in the livery, my lord.”
Tatius didn’t seem comforted by that. “You realize my brothers have brought two hundred heavily-armed men.”
“We saw, my lord.”
“What did they say when they came to you?”
Kress thought back to the conversation. “They said that they came to escort the lady back to The Paladin, by your order,” he said. “They also brought Lady Cadelyn’s mother with them. The lady did not even know her mother was still alive.”
Tatius looked at the knights for a moment before lowering his gaze.
“It is unfortunate that she has met her mother,” he said, “but the truth is this – Nesta ferch Madog wants to use her daughter to feed a rebellion. It is my belief that she wanted to use the child for that purpose when she was born and that is why Owain gave the infant over to William Marshal – to keep her from her mother. The woman is evil.”
Kress’ brow furrowed in surprise and horror as he leaned in to Tatius. “She wants to use her daughter to feed a rebellion?” he repeated. “What rebellion?”
Tatius sighed sharply. “Bring me some drink and I shall tell you all of it,” he said. “There is a good deal you should know.”
As Alexander signaled to Jude, hovering back by the kitchens, for food and drink, Kress continued the conversation. “But I do not understand,” he said, struggling to make sense of what they were being told. “The lady… she is your betrothed. We are due to deliver her to The Paladin.”
Tatius looked at him. “Do you not understand?” he said.
“She must never make it to The Paladin. Do not take her there. Take her far, far away, away from England and far away from Wales. As long as they know she exists, this rebellion that the mother has built up will always stew, will always simmer, waiting for the moment to burst forth. Lady Cadelyn will be the catalyst.”
Drink was quickly brought and Tatius slurped down an entire cup of ale, pouring himself more and downing half of that cup, too.
He was a man looking to find courage in that cup of ale.
Kress could see that. In fact, he’d been watching the man since the moment he’d entered the tavern room, having trouble believing that this meek-looking, almost frail man was, in reality, the Earl of Ellesmere.
But an unprompted soldier had confirmed it, a man that Bric was only now pulling off the floor and asking Jude for rope to tie him up with.
They had to keep the soldier contained so he could not return to the de Shera army to tell them that the earl was inside The Crown and Anchor Inn.
They needed to hear what Tatius had to say.
In truth, Kress was beyond shocked by what the man had said.
It wasn’t anything he’d expected to hear.
Take her far, far away. Hadn’t Kress been struggling against that very thought?
Running away with Cadelyn and never looking back?
But now, it wasn’t because he loved her and wanted her for himself.
Now, it would be to save her… from her mother?
It was a truly astonishing thought. Kress found himself inspecting the Earl of Ellesmere, curious about him even beyond his surprise appearance and the message he bore.
This was the soon-to-be husband of Cadelyn, and a more pathetic specimen he’d never seen.
The man had the look of the hunted about him, a truly sad state, but with what he was hearing, that countenance made a good deal of sense.
It seemed there was much going on at The Paladin that William Marshal didn’t know about.
“Do you feel strong enough to tell us the rest, my lord?” Kress asked after watching the earl down his drink.
Tatius nodded, greatly fortified by the alcohol now filling his veins.
“Aye,” he said, looking to the knights around the table.
“To tell you what you need to know, I must start at the beginning. My mother was Welsh, part of the ancient kingdom of Rhos. Because of that, we have always had ties to the princes in the north of Wales. Some time ago, a woman calling herself Nesta ferch Madog, or even Nesta of Vendotia, came to me as a distant cousin to speak of a betrothal with her daughter, who was a ward of William Marshal. She promised me lands in Wales near Conwy, and a rather large dowry should I agree. I was uncertain, but my brothers were bewitched by the lure of lands and riches, it was they who convinced me to send word to William Marshal about a betrothal between myself and Nesta’s daughter. ”
Kress’ suspicions about Nesta had been confirmed. “So she did come to you about her daughter,” he said. “She told us that you had informed her of the lady.”
Tatius shook his head. “Untrue,” he said. “She was the one to tell me of her daughter and she suggested the betrothal, which my brothers pushed me into. They are greedy for the riches promised to them, but those riches have a price.”
“What price?” Kress asked.
Tatius lifted a dark eyebrow. “The most expensive kind,” he said.
“The House of de Shera must help the group that calls themselves the Rebels of Rhos to revolt against their Gwynedd overlords and, subsequently, English rule. If you recall, John’s daughter, Joan, married the last Prince of Wales in Llywelyn, so a revolt against Gwynedd would be a revolt against the king.
Nesta’s daughter, as a full-blooded Welsh princess, will be used to inspire the rebellion and lead it.
They expect her to lead them to victory and the House of de Shera right along with it. ”
By this time, the knights were looking at him in shock. Now, the entire sordid story was coming out and they were having difficulty comprehending such a wild tale. As they sat there and mulled over the horrifying future as Tatius presented it, Achilles lifted his voice.
“That was why that woman was so shocked when Lady Cadelyn told her she was English,” he hissed at Kress. “Do you remember that? Did you see how she looked at Lady Cadelyn? As if she was…”
“A traitor,” Kress finished for him. He was starting to feel sick to his stomach but, in the same breath, everything he thought odd about the appearance of Atilius and Fabius de Shera suddenly made sense.
He looked at Tatius. “My lord, your brothers wanted to take the lady today. Right now, in fact. She has been slightly ill, so we were able to convince them otherwise, but something tells me they may not wait if they have an entire Welsh rebellion planned around her.”